


Dance of the Bowerbird

by frenchfrybird



Category: The Strain, The Strain (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:58:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11723394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchfrybird/pseuds/frenchfrybird
Summary: Set shortly before the fourth season, a little background adventure for Fet and Quinlan after they leave New York.





	Dance of the Bowerbird

The group chose to go their separate ways after the nuclear bomb that blew up Liberty Island instigated global nuclear war. Quinlan and Fet had a...difficult...relationship. Lord knows Fet didn’t want to work with the half-muncher, but he recognized Quinlan’s millennia of experience. He might not trust the bastard’s inherent good will (or lack thereof), but he did trust him to take out any munchers and keep the team on track. Quinlan didn’t appreciate Fet’s demeanor either, but Quinlan knew he needed Fet too. Fet was an expert survivalist, a master of multiple trades, and if anyone could find the nuke Setrakian wanted, it was him. Hell, he probably could figure out how to safely extract the nuke for transport, then set it up again to blow. And Quinlan wanted to explore any possible angle to destroy the Master.

The duo were making their way out west, to try to find a nuclear silo that housed any viable missiles. They had barely left Pennsylvania when they recruited an indigenous woman named Charlotte. She was an expert marksman and hunter and had been visiting relatives when the bombs went off, stranding her in the area. She joined as a secure way to get back home even though she didn’t have any of the information they wanted, but soon she and Fet hit it off pretty quick and her motivations for staying changed. And truthfully, Fet needed her to survive. He wasn’t as good a shot as her and though he could hunt, she blew him out of the water consistently. Fet probably would’ve been in much worse shape if not for her. Charlotte was courteous to Quinlan, and he was to her, but he tried to keep conversation with either of them as short as possible; he just wanted to get back on the road again and he didn’t particularly appreciate Fet’s constant commentary. The sooner he could get it over with, the better.

The roads were mostly empty, but there were checkpoints, especially around cities and highways that were the arteries of the nation before the bombings, causing the team to have to take a detour through a small rural town in Indiana. The place was deserted, and the burned out husks of cars littered the roads. Fet insisted they stop at the small commercial district, to see if there was anything he and Charlotte could scrounge up; ammo, food, fresh water, anything. Things were tight and the war had been much harder on the humans than it had been on Quinlan. He didn’t need vitamin D from the sun, but Fet and Charlotte did; they had to make up the deficit or they could fall seriously ill. Quinlan acknowledged their needs, and followed them to one of the storefronts. Fet pulled out his trusty rebar and smashed the window in. Quinlan pulled on the door. It was unlocked.

“You don’t have to ruin my fun,” he said as he roughly took the door from Quinlan and walked in.

Quinlan ignored him and walked to the back of the store. He cautiously pulled his sword from its sheath and pushed back the heavy double doors to the storeroom. He passed by torn open boxes of food and other necessities. He turned a corner, and shoved his blade through the neck of a strigoi. Three more came out of the other rooms, and he deftly beheaded them in three simple, smooth movements. He went deeper into the storeroom, and found a door that opened to the outside. Cowering in an arch way, behind some boxes, was a human woman, average height with an average build, with light skin, eyes, and hair, in her late 20s. Quinlan held his blade in a ready position in the event he had to kill her. Instead she stared at the dead strigoi on the ground, then turned her attention back to him.

“You’re...not like them, are you?” She asked.

“An astute observation. Did the heads on the floor clue you into that, or was it the blood on my blade?” He wiped the blood on the sword off with the clothing of one of the recently departed. He kept an eye on her, in the event she had a pistol or knife hidden in her jacket.

She took a few steps closer to him. “I’m impressed. I’ve never seen anything like that, or like you.”

Quinlan stiffed, looked at her face, then spun on his heels and out of the room. As she was calling and chasing after him, she collided into Charlotte, knocking her down. Out of instinct, Charlotte grabbed her rifle and aimed it at the woman’s head. She lowered it when she realized the stranger was human. Quinlan grabbed Charlotte by the arm, and helped her up.

“Thanks, but who’s your new friend?” Charlotte asked as she brushed some dirt off her jeans.

“There’s nothing of value in the storeroom.” He replied, pointedly ignoring her question.

Fet walked over, having heard the commotion. “Charlotte, you alright?” She replied in the affirmative, and Fet turned his attention to the newcomer. “Hey! Sorry but, we’re kind of in a rush here and we’re low on supplies. I don’t know if we can take you with us. Will you be okay here?”

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“That’s uh...classified information. But we’re looking to do something more to survive; something to fight back y’know?” Fet said.

She raised an eyebrow. “I may have access to certain classified resources…”

Lightning raged through Quinlan. “What kind of resources? We are in need of a nuclear weapon.”

Fet gave Quinlan a dirty look. “We don’t need everyone knowing our business alright? The less people know, the better. So cool it.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I may just know where one is…” She looked at Quinlan specifically. She was taunting him.

“In that case, welcome aboard.” Fet said with his signature half-cocked goofy grin. “I’m Vasily Fet -- just call me Fet, this is Charlotte, and this is, uh, Mr. Quinlan. Despite appearances he won’t bite. I think.”

“I’m Kaylee Ocherstie.” She shook Fet’s outstretched hand.

“I know the nuke is important to you two,” Charlotte started, “but Fet, you and I really need some food. The hunting hasn’t been so good here. Kaylee, do you have any stores you can bring along?”

Quinlan shifted his weight uncomfortably, tuning out of the conversation. Why couldn’t they just do what they needed right now instead of having a protracted conversation about it? He bit his tongue to prevent getting into a pointless argument with Fet, but God, he was raring to go. He continued to shift and shuffle as the the plodding conversation went on, trying to look as bored and impatient as possible. Apparently this was distracting to Kaylee, because she would look at him expectantly throughout the conversation constantly, even though he had nothing to say. When their eyes met, she would smirk then quickly turn away abashedly. He pulled his hood up, to conceal his face, then announced to Fet he was leaving, with or without him. He shoved past the askew aisles to the front of the store, desperate to leave the burning stare of their new companion. He hopped up into the truck, yet he could still feel her eyes burrowing into him, like worms through his flesh. He shuddered slightly and let out a displeased grunt. He reached for the ignition when he remembered Fet had the keys. Goddammit. And right on cue, Fet showed up, grinning, dangling the keys in front of the driver’s side window.

“Bet you forgot I had these huh? You’re not going anywhere without us.” He opened the door and motioned for Quinlan to get out.

“I would prefer to drive.” Quinlan replied, ass planted firmly on the seat. Fet wouldn’t be able to pull him off no matter how hard he tried.

“I don’t really give a shit what you prefer to do. I’m the one with the directions, and I’ve got a map. Now get out.”

The two women were staring at Quinlan and Fet arguing. Charlotte had crossed her arms and was shaking her head. Kaylee was grinning. Not wanting to make more of a spectacle of himself and feed into Fet’s immaturity, he left the truck. He went around the side to get into the front passenger seat, but Charlotte was already inside. Because of course she was. He pulled open the back passenger door and slid in. He reached forward and grabbed the lever, pushing the front seat forward so he actually had leg room, partially to express his displeasure at Charlotte for making him sit next to Kaylee but also as a bit of petty revenge. Charlotte turned to face him, gave him a hard look, then settled in. He leaned back and closed his eyes, ignoring her. He felt Kaylee climb in. The back seat was cramped, yes, but she was sitting a little too close. He shifted closer to the door and leaned his head against the window. Kaylee responded by inching closer to him, her thigh touching his. He crossed his arms across his chest and pulled his leg in further. Kaylee was leaning over the center armrest, holding up the map and directing Fet where to go.

Quinlan was barely aware of the passing of time, but when he opened his eyes, it had gone from the usual gray of the nuclear winter days to the pitch black of night. The car was stopped and the engine was idling. He blinked and tried to get his bearings. The floodlights were on, and while he couldn’t see Fet, he could see Charlotte illuminated in front of the truck. He reached for the door handle, but felt a hand high up on his thigh. His entire body turned rigid and he instinctively grabbed it to remove it. He felt the other hand curl over his.

“Fet’s getting things from the back...I thought maybe you and I could talk. I’ve been watching you sleep you know...you’re a fascinating creature. Fet told me all about you.” It was Kaylee, and she was nearly leaning over him, staring intently, like a cat after a mouse.

It was too early in the night for Quinlan to be dealing with this shit. He yanked the door open and left with such speed she flopped over onto her elbows. He slammed the door in her face as she protested and walked over to Fet.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty!” Fet called to him.

“What is this place?” Quinlan asked.

“An old grain silo. Kaylee says she’s been storing up food, weapons, all kinds of things we need. We’re gonna stock up then head on out. You’re just in time to help me with the heavy lifting.” He walked to the silo and Quinlan followed. Fet took his time gathering up supplies to hand off to Quinlan. “So uh...everything alright?”

“Fine.”

“Really? Because you don’t look fine. I know you think us humans are part of the problem or whatever, but this is different.”

Quinlan hated when Fet could read him like this. “I do not like our new companion and would prefer to dispose of her at your earliest convenience.”

“What, is it getting gawked at because you’re a half-muncher that’s bugging you?” Fet probed. “You never struck me as the type to care much what others think.”

“I don’t.” He replied. He nearly ripped Fet’s arms off as he roughly grabbed the box of ammunition from his hands. He quickly marched to the back of the truck to load it up. He returned to the silo for more supplies. The faster they finished, the faster they could leave this place, and the faster they could get rid of Kaylee.

As Quinlan was picking up another box, Fet continued his line of questioning. “Well judging by the way you just stormed off--”

Quinlan cut him off. “Drop this line of inquiry. Now.” It was not a request.

“Y’know, this attitude problem of yours is why you don’t play well with others. And why you’ve wasted all this damn time hunting the Master. Consider being a team player.” Fet gathered up the last of the supplies and left Quinlan alone in the silo.

Fet coped with the trauma of change by talking, building connections. He was highly sociable and had a natural talent for making friends and putting people at ease. Quinlan was the exact opposite. He had been somewhat sociable, once, but after the Master ripped his heart out, murdered his family, he retreated into himself. He had only one goal: vengeance. No amount of chatter and armchair psychology could ever soothe those wounds, but Fet was probably right about one thing...Quinlan needed the others. And he needed to learn to get along better with them. After all, it was not he who found the Lumen. It was Setrakian. After Quinlan failed to kill the Master and was riddled full of bullets, it was a human, Goodweather, who had patched him up and saved his life. He couldn’t do it on his own. And it angered him. His pain was his own, a pain he couldn’t share, a pain that had so shaped his psyche and personality he couldn’t separate himself from it. He was the personification of the Master’s end. If he wanted to guarantee that end, he had to play nice with others, even if the others were horribly obnoxious and could not shut the fuck up.

Quinlan moved across the grain silo floor. His exit was blocked by Kaylee. He tried go around her, but she moved to intercept. God he wish she’d go away. He was beginning to wonder if this entire little operation of hers was just a set up.

“Kylie, get out of my way.” He pushed her aside.

“Kaylee!” She huffed, grabbing his wrist.

He pulled his arm back roughly. “You lied about knowing where a nuke was, didn’t you, Kelly?”

“I...well...you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.” She tried to seem meek and innocent. Quinlan didn’t buy it. “I just really want to get to know you, get to know all about you. I’m sorry I lied.” She moved in closer and put her hand on Quinlan’s hip. “I feel like we have a special connection, ever since we met and you saved me...”

“One. Chance.” He slapped her hand away and warned her.

She took it as a challenge. She shoved her hands between her legs and came back empty. She stared at him blankly. She then snorted. “I thought you were a real man, and instead I get this bullshit?! I’ve been nothing but gracious and helpful to you, and maybe I lied once, but this! Is ridiculous!! I doubt Fet and Charlotte would want anything to do with you when I te--”

She was cut off when Quinlan grabbed her by the face, and embedded her skull into the concrete. He kept bashing her head in until there was nothing left but small chunks and a puddle of ooze. Until he had decimated every last bit of the shame and humiliation just inflicted upon him.

Fet came running in at the commotion. “Quinlan! What the hell happened here?”

He stood up, discarded his gloves, pulled his sunglasses out despite the darkness of the night, and replied, “Becky got smashed.”

Fet shrugged. “Looks like Becky didn’t get that stick after all.”

Quinlan smirked at Fet and the two strolled out of the silo, marching closer to the end of their journey. “Fuck this nest.”


End file.
